


We're All Just Star Scrap

by SoraMJigen



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Cemetery, Comfort, Conversations, Crying, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Outer Space, Sad, Science, Siblings, Stars, Talking To Dead People, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6352012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoraMJigen/pseuds/SoraMJigen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is….is that true, Pappy? Is-is that why y-y-you left?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're All Just Star Scrap

**Author's Note:**

> Okay....wasn't expecting or planning to write this much SPG, but, eh, who am I to complain? I haven't forgotten my other fics. I've just been needing to vent for a while and these little SPG oneshots seem to be doing something for me. Better out than in or so I've always believed, especially with emotions. Anyway, I'll be updating my other works soon. Thanks for reading :)

“H-h-hey, Th’ Spine?”

“Yes, Rabbit?”

“What are humans made of?”

“Skin, blood, bone, and-“

“N-n-n-n-no, I-I mean…what’s that s-stuff made of?”

“Well, Rabbit it’s all made up of different chemicals and atoms. Recently, scientists have even discovered that they share the same compounds as stars.”

“S-s-so…t-t-they’re all just star scrap.”

As she made her way to the Walter cemetery, that conversation kept replaying in her head and she wondered, maybe it would quell some of her sadness. Today was Pappy’s death day and the manor seemed incredibly quiet as it normally did when this day arose. One by one, the automatons would stand before Pappy’s grave and pay their respects to the man beneath the soil. They would tell him how much they missed him, how they wanted him to return but knew he couldn’t, and everything else that had happened in their lives thus far. It was a somber moment for them and while they would visit his gravestone (as well as the other Walter tombstones) from time to time, Pappy had the most significance toward them as being their first father.

Rabbit always hated this day. She hated how even the week of it would transform her happiness into depression and she would sulk about the manor, recalling her wondrous days with Pappy. Yet she knew it couldn’t be avoided, nor would she want to avoid it – Pappy’s death day was a day to be remembered and revered. It was a day to reflect on the many wonderful memories she had crafted with Pappy from her “birth” to her upbringing; how Pappy taught her (at the time, him) the ways of the world, how to speak, how to play with his brothers, the initiation and performances of The Steam Man Band, and how to live the best a robot can while gaining some humanity in ways Pappy didn’t understand how, but greatly enjoyed. Oh those days were magnificent – so much so that they spilled forth in Rabbit’s dream stasis and gave her some of the best nights’ sleep.

Headstones glumly watched as steam puffed from her face vents, her eyes focused on a center most and distant grave. It was the first grave in the Walter graveyard and while she had seen makeshift memorials crafted for fallen comrades in combat, she never wanted to bear witness to the grave of her father. She dared not gaze upon the other graves – as important as they were to her, today was Pappy’s day. They would all each get their own day in the future. She could feel the etched in letters and words and names tearing into her like a hyena on a gazelle, but they did not shake her willful spirit as the hill ascended. 

She swore with every step she took to Pappy’s grave, it grew closer and closer to her as though his ghost was reaching out to her. She did believe in the supernatural, the impossible – it was kind of hard not to when she lived in a house that would sometimes have restless spirits trapped in chairs or towers of tacos that never seemed to expire or wither. Some days she wondered if it was the blue matter or her internal cogs slowly being corrupted. No one had seemed to complain or worry if it was blue matter and so she fell back on the belief that it was her old machinery gradually growing mad. She didn’t mind the madness – it allowed her to be herself at times and have tea parties with the toaster or steal The Spine’s head despite his wriggling protests. It was all well in sibling love and lunacy and she laughed whenever The Spine would try to function as though he were in his chassis only to realize that he wasn’t. She believed she could have used some of that happiness or at least loss of sanity now, but what good would it do? Pappy’s grave was so close in sight and she swore if she had a heart, she would feel it sink down into the ground.

Although her photoreceptors seemingly bore no emotion, they glowed like fog lights through a storm. From her short distance, Rabbit could see the lettering on Pappy’s grave and for a moment, she forgot to exhale her vents, her cogs choking at the sight. It was a sight she had been used to before, but now, now she wondered why she suddenly began to falter. Her fingers twitched and she quietly cursed herself, hoping that of all times, she wasn’t malfunctioning now.

“Pappy?” Rabbit’s voice cried out into the cemetery as her feet urged her forward.

“P-P-P-Pappy, it’s m-m-me, R-R-Rabbit.” Her somber tones, usually different than her joyful ones called out to the grave in hopes the dead would remember the speaker. While she knew he couldn’t hear her, it still gave her a bit of hope and did her some good to talk with the tombstone. Kneeling just before the grave, a wreath of steam exhaled from her vents as she tried to collect her thoughts. Placing a small bouquet of roses before the grave, she somberly smiled in knowing Pappy would adore them.

“J-j-j-just wanted to see you t-today. The b-b-band’s doin fine and look! I’m a g-g-girl now!” Some happiness broke through her sorrow as oil welled up in her eyes, wishing Pappy was there to see her transformation. She smoothed out her skirt, slender silver fingers skirting over the fabric.

“P-P-Pete said he found it i-i-in some old trunk of your blue-blue prints. He thinks I was supposed to b-be a girl, b-b-but then the wars happened and…..” She knew what happened after the wars. How Pappy had died afterward from his poor health and his broken heart from Delilah’s demise. Rabbit accepted that it happened, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it, the words ticking in her head like her internal clockwork. 

If the wars hadn’t happened, she would have been able to spend more time with Pappy. Everyone would have; The Spine, The Jon, Hatchworth, and Rabbit and they would have done everything with him. Perhaps they would have played more shows or had more picnics or even more times just to sit together and listen to the radio. The radio dramas wouldn’t have mattered, as long as they were all there together like one happy family. Rabbit would have been a lady and would have worn the fanciest outfits of that time and she knew she would have wowed the world with her charm – much like she did now. She would have been her real, original self. 

Sighing, she knew she didn’t have a time machine and whether Peter Walter VI was still working on one or not was something she didn’t know. If he did craft one though, oh how she would go back in time and try to see Pappy once more in any way she could. Distance or not, she would have given one more chance to see him smiling or laughing or just tinkering with some tools. 

“Th’Jon’s g-g-g-gone off to Biscuit Town as the may-mayor. Hatchy’s out of th-the vault now. His p-p-portal’s fixed, Petey patched him up. And Th’Spine…Th’Spine…”

That conversation came to once more, exploding in the surface of her internal cogs. The wheels turned and her photoreceptors blinked, the scene unraveling in her head. Recalling the words as though she had known them all her life, she heard them echo in her heaD: her recorder function chanted the talk word for word. Shoulders sinking, her optics fell upon the grave as the oil began to trickle down her cheeks.

“Pappy,” Rabbit started, her orbs never leaving the tombstone as drops splattered onto her dress and the dirt. “Th-Th’Spine said all hu-hu-humans were m-m-made of s-s-star st-stuff. Is….is that true, Pappy? Is-is that why y-y-you left?”

She allowed the thought to consume her. What if Pappy wasn’t made of star scrap? What if he was made of metal and eternally lived as Rabbit, The Spine, and Hatchworth would? What if he had blue matter in his blood like the Walter Girls and Boys, who never seemingly aged? What if he wasn’t…human?

He would still be alive. He would be here and he would hold her just as he did back then when she cried. Pappy would be watching them perform and smiling as he did back then. Maybe, if he was a metal man, he would join them onstage or at least partake in some aspect of the show. He would be a metallic scientist who would be a large focal point in the science community. He would be a wonder of the world – much like what he called his automatons. He would probably be able to repair himself or get Peter Walter VI to do it. The very thought of it all made the oily tears emerge even faster and run down her face. Splattering her crimson skirt, she didn’t even care if the fabric was tarnished by her tears. She knew the Walter Girls would be able to get the stains out as steam billowed from her face vents and she doubled over, hands gripping her hips.

“Pappy…e-e-e-veryone we know i-i-i-is made of star scrap…I-I’ve l-l-l-lost you, I can’t…I c-c-c-c-can’t lose them! I-I c-c-c-c-can’t lose anyone a-a-anymore!”

Rabbit’s cries reverberated throughout the graveyard, striking other tombstones with her wails. Her photoreceptors, clamped tightly with tears, gave way to memories in her head of her and Pappy walking through the garden, testing out her mechanics. Like a baby taking its first steps and uttering the first and only word of ‘rabbit’ and Pappy liked that, so much so it became the automaton’s namesake. Her optics flared open, the memory only causing her to desire Pappy’s presence and for him to hug her as he did so many years ago. 

“Rabbit,” a voice from behind her spoke up in a gentle, low tone. The crying automaton’s frame stopped shaking, albeit briefly, to look over her shoulder to see who called her name.

Standing behind her was a rather tall, silver man that she had known all her life. In his hands he held a grave bed of differed shaded petunias – Pappy’s favorite flower that blossomed on the Manor grounds. He had heard everything regarding how Pappy was made of star scrap and he swallowed hard, not knowing that that this was why Rabbit had asked that question a few days ago. He merely thought she was curious, as Rabbit naturally was, but completely overlooked the possibility of it referring to Pappy especially with his death day so close when she had posed the question. Swiftly dropping down so that he rested on the balls of his feet, he watched as Rabbit quickly turn and embrace him, burying her face into his chest. Casting the petunias onto the grave, he pulled his sibling in as close as possible, absorbing her sobs while biting back his own as his eyes fell upon his father’s grave.

It always broke his heart to see Pappy’s tombstone and yet he knew that he had to be the strong one because that’s how he always portrayed himself. He would vent his emotions in the Hall of Wires to quiet cords and whirring walls that was the heart of the manor. No one would hear him and The Spine preferred it that way – he knew how emotional his siblings could get and he knew that someone had to be the one who offered a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear. That someone would be him and that’s how it would always be. The Spine allowed it to be this way though and it was only incredibly rare that he broke before anyone; one of the few times oil tears broke through his photoreceptors was when Pappy died. Seeing the mere letters on Pappy’s grave was enough to make his core twinge with pain and mere flashbacks surface in his mind of him and Pappy discussing science and The Spine’s inner workings and answering The Spine’s questions of what love was and why Pappy had felt it for Delilah.

“Th’Spine, I-I-I-I I don’t-“ Rabbit brought him back from his memories as he rubbed her back softly.

“I know. I don’t want to lose anyone anymore either. Rabbit, I apologize, I didn’t think-“

“N-n-n-n-n-n-no,” her malfunctions grew terribly when she cried. “I-i-i-i-i-it’s okay. Y-you didn’t k-k-k-k-now.”

The Spine expelled steam as his body eased, looking down into Rabbit’s hat where Pappy’s brass goggles still clung to the center. He could feel the oil welling along his photoreceptors and he did his best to swallow them. He had to keep his strength and composure for Rabbit. He held her close to his silvery frame and allowed her to cry on his shoulder for what seemed like hours, never once stopping her. His emerald optics fell upon Pappy’s grave and lingered there, quietly observing the man who had crafted him many, many years ago. The more he stared at the lettering, the more memories emerged of how when he was first made Rabbit could barely stay away from the lab, of how he and his father sat together in the study reading about science, of how Pappy would leave him books to read to further his vocabulary, and of how Pappy never left their sides, not even during the wars. 

His optics rolled upward, staring into the gloomy grey skies above that rolled with clouds ready to rumble with thunder. He knew rain would never work well on Rabbit’s original frame from way back when. It would rust easily at the touch of water, but now – now if only Pappy could see what Peter Walter VI had done, he would be beaming like the Sun. Rabbit was now just like her brother and bore a silver chassis with a burning core that didn’t malfunction or falter, even though her inner workings still did. It was a stutter that Pappy tried so many times to fix, but could never repair and eventually it became an iconic feature of Rabbit’s.

“Say Rabbit,” The Spine started, his internal cogs working on something that he just remembered from those fantastic discussions with Pappy years ago.

“Hm?”

“You know how I said people are made of star stuff?”

“Y-y-y-y-y--yeah?”

“What if his soul returned to the stars?”

“…w-w-w-what?” Rabbit looked up, her optics still rimmed with tears and The Spine smiled softly.

“Pappy and I talked about science and whatnot back then in our spare time. One of the conversations we had was about the soul and how, well, it’s a strange thing. No one really knows what it is and for the longest time, Pappy couldn’t figure it out either. All we knew about it was that it was something that kept humans alive other than their biological functions. Once the person had died though, the soul would leave the body and go wherever it pleased. Rabbit, if all of him is a collection of star scrap, what if he returned to the stars?”

Rabbit blinked, registering everything The Spine had said. Questions unfurled in her mind and while there was so many she wanted to ask, she was more concerned about what he had said about Pappy’s soul. She knew what a soul was and even wondered if she had one despite her robotic life. Souls were supposedly reserved for humans, but she had an open mind and it didn’t hurt her to think that she had a soul.

Blinking, she tilted her head up to the dreary skies overhead. Staring at the sky, she found the idea hard to believe, but she had heard of souls and ghosts and had seen those strange wispy figures on television programs and movies. Pappy was a man, someone well buried below them and returning her gaze to The Spine, he wasn’t surprised to see her mismatched optics and feminine silvery face bare some confusion. Rabbit slowly raised her hand and pointed upward, to make sure she was hearing him right and that she wasn’t losing her mind.

“Yes, Rabbit. In the sky, in space.”

“S-s-s-s-s-s-o,” she started, trying to understand The Spine’s theory. “Pappy’s soul c-c-c-c-could be a-a-a star?”

Giving her a nod for an answer, Rabbit looked up once more. The clouds blocked her way from seeing any potential stars or Pappy. She had always believed The Spine’s words because he was possibly the smartest of the siblings. He was the most adult like as well and very knowledgeable in scientific fields that Rabbit had only heard of through the Walters and the Walter Workers. So for him to say something like this and confirm it, well, it had to be true in some aspect. Perhaps, the notion was comforting and Rabbit believed it to be that; in knowing that her father had rested somewhere among the stars.

“T-t-t-t-t-think h-h-he watches us?”

“Absolutely.”

The Spine smiled some in knowing that his theory was working and that, hopefully, it would provide some solace to Rabbit. He knew what she would do now; he knew that every night she would look out her window and search the stars for one that seemed to shine brightest, acknowledging her existence. That one would be Pappy and she would believe it to be him and she would rest in comfort, knowing he saw everything and was still watching her grow and be herself. 

The Spine knew they had just been to space where they had seen a ton of things; space whales, sky sharks, a space giant, a green apple planet, and so many other wonderful things. To see Pappy’s soul glimmering among the stars was something The Spine was sure everyone would want to see.

“Say…Th’Spine I-I-I-I think I just got a song idea….”

“Oh really?”

“Y-y-yeah! Wanna hear i-i-it?”

“I’d love to,” The Spine spoke reassuringly and rose from the ground, offering his hand and helping Rabbit to her feet. Once more she cast her gaze to the skies and then Pappy’s grave. A breath of steam exhaled from her face vents as she turned to her brother.

“It’s like a dream or….some silly fantasy….”


End file.
